Freak
by AHumbleFreak
Summary: Lillianne Marsh's once ordinary life gets flipped upside down when she acquires a stalker who would do anything to make her senior year perfect...Anything. Phantom inspired. ALL ORIGINAL CHARACTERS.


I'm so nervous about posting this. I shall sit here, consumed with nervousness that makes me shit bricks. Ah. AH. JUST FUCKING READ IT AND GO AWAY. Reviews and constructive criticism is always welcomed. But. Whatever enough out of me.

_In the darkness, the small ray of moonlight shone through the window onto the top floor of the school building. The tile floors were glistening in the night, the night janitor making his last rounds around the school with his mop. It was much later than he had anticipated, he thought his work would be finished by nine o'clock, but it seemed that some kids had broken in over the summer break and dirtied up the place. It was near eleven, the school was only going to get dirty again tomorrow when they first open the doors, so the old man questioned "Why even bother?". He placed his ratted mop in the dirty bucket of water and pushed it into the next hallway, fumbling with the lights behind him. The minute the switch was flipped down, the darkness engulfed the room with it's cold body. A slight chill swept through his bones, he realized he'd left the window open on the opposite side of the hall. Groaning with fatigue threatening his ability to stand, he slowly crossed over and wrestled with the window to shut it close. He looked to the side and saw a block of wood keeping the window open, another cold breeze rushing through him. Puzzled, he reached for the wood to remove it and inspect it._

_Out of the corner of his eye, a shadow moved._

_Quickly, he turned around to face the movement but formed nothing in the dark. "Hello?" he called out. "Wh-What are you doing here?" A rush of adrenaline chilled through his veins as he faced the shadow. It seemed to grow in the darkness, the blackness of the figure sucking in all the bravery he had left in the shadowy hallways. He quickly brushed his hands around his belt, trying to find his flashlight. His weak eyes formed a figure in the hall, standing there, watching him. After a while of patting himself down, he realized his flashlight was nowhere on his belt. He must've left it in the janitor's room. Or the main office. Or at home with-_

_The shadow moved closer. _

_"Hey!" he barked, trying to find an ounce of authority in the title "janitor". "Th-This is trespassing! Identify yourself! Now!" The shadow remained unfazed, moving closer to him. He could make out the outline of a bulky hoodie, bony legs. Boots. They sounded steel toed. He knew that if this kid decided to swing a hit at his skull he'd be cracked open for sure. Was this the same person who had broken in earlier? Come to check up on their graffiti he had spent nearly an hour scrubbing off? Anger swelled in his throat but got choked up in a knot. The fear of what lied beyond that darkness holding him stronger than his will to push on forward and grab that kid by the ear and give them a stern talking to. "I m-mean it, kid!" Dammit. His hands shook. What for? This thing didn't respond to him. Maybe this kid doesn't know who he is? He was the night-shift janitor, after-all, the only kids who knew him were outcasts and geeks who lived at the library like it held the biggest trove of treasure known to man. He never talked to the kids, so maybe that's why he didn't respond. Or she? No, a he. It had to be a he. Only a guy could have shoulders that wide. And those hands, they were gloved. Long, bony fingers. The shadow of the hoodie covered the face, a ray of moonshine inches away from it. It glanced at the open window. It looked back at the janitor. They stood in the darkness for a solid minute, stuck in time._

_Then it stepped forward into the pale moonlight. And it smiled the blackest, most crooked smile he'd ever seen._

_He'd only turned around for a second. Just to turn on the lights. When he slapped the wall and the lights quickly clicked on one-by-one down the hall, he'd turn back to see the culprit. But he was gone. The window was slammed shut. The halls silent and empty. The only proof that this hadn't been some sleep-deprived hallucination was the fact that he still gripped the block of wood in his hand, his knuckles as pale as his face._

_It wasn't until he heard his phone buzz to life did he realize how late it was. After listening to his wife angrily tell him to "hurry the hell up and come home" did he realize that it was almost midnight. Even though the window wasn't open, he felt a coldness chill the marrow in his aging bones. Like a ghost had passed through him._

The sunlight is always something painful to wake up to. Especially after a whole summer of looking forward to it. And the ground is something even worse to wake up to. Face first. After trying to throw your phone across the room to make it stop singing that stupid song you'd thought would be an awesome ring-tone. Then you set it as an alarm. Now you hate everything about how Britney Spears is in love with a criminal.

Those exact thoughts couldn't relate to anyone more than her at that very moment. With an aggravated yawn, she stood up, scratching her head buried somewhere beneath that tussled mess of brown hair. She slowly sat down on her bed and reached towards the nightstand next to her and grabbed her outfit for the day, slipping off her sweatpants and tying her hair up in a messy bun. As she struggled to fit her bra on, she suddenly realized what today was.

It was Lillianne Marsh's first day of senior year.

The seventeen year old girl turned on the lights next to her bed stand, a rush of adrenaline pumping through her body when she realized what exactly today meant. Quickly, she forced her brush through her knotted hair and turned on the flatiron. She had to hurry, what time was it? Seven o'clock, school started in thirty minutes. She ran to the door, still running her tortured hairbrush through the thick and long mass on her head. "DAD. DAD ARE YOU UP." she howled in the dark hall. All she could hear was an inaudible groaning from her father's closed bedroom door. She rolled her eyes, a dark emerald green, and quickly brushed her teeth in the sink in the bathroom across the hall. Before returning to her room, she walked down the hall and opened the door to her father's bedroom. "Daaddd c'mon, get uuppp." she whined. Her father turned in his bed, a tuff of graying hair popped up from under the blankets. Lillianne grunted in frustration, and cocked her hips to the side with sass. "Grant Wilhelm Marsh, do you know what day it is for your one and only, perfect daughter?" she cooed coldly. She heard the bed shuffle again and the pillow landed on top of his head.

"Is it the day my beautiful but over-whelming daughter will let me sleep in?" a deep voice whispered from behind the pillows. Lillianne threw her hands in the air and headed back to her room. Just as she sat down and started to iron her hair, she heard the sudden clambering of her father's heavy footsteps slipping out of bed and into the kitchen, the lights following his pathway. Lillianne couldn't help but smile when she heard him mumbling to himself as he struggled to find something to cook for her. Her father, although protective and loving, had a hard time remembering important events in just like her. They were alike in many ways, however Lillianne realized that she was probably better off cooking herself breakfast when she smelt the smoke from the kitchen and remembered one thing she was better at. Quickly applying eyeliner and throwing the dress over her shoulders, she slipped on her wedges and clicked her way towards the kitchen.

Her father, Grant Marsh, stood over the stove, trying to blow out the mini fire in the pan he had created. His young daughter, Lillianne Marsh, reached for the cereal cabinet and giggled under her breath. Grant looked over his shoulder at her, a smug grin on his face.

"Thought I'd try to be a good father and make you breakfast." he chuckled, throwing chucks of what would be fluffy eggs into the garbage.

"Well I thought I'd try to be a good daughter and let you cook." she retorted back, filling the bowl. He dad shrugged and raised his hands in defeat. He walked into his bedroom to quickly got dressed enough to be somewhat presentable when dropping his kid off for school. He knew she hated it when he was in his "sloppy stupid PJ's" and last year, just to spite her, he wore his glow-in-the-dark Green Lantern pants and walked into the office and asked for Lillianne's transcript right there, but he knew today was very important and special to her. She finished her meal and grabbed her new bag she bought with her friends over break, a lavender handbag with yellow flowers painted on it. As she grabbed the keys and headed out the door, her father seemed to come out from nowhere and step in front of her.

"Who said you could drive to school, today?" he said in the best overprotective voice he could muster. Lillianne groaned and swayed her head, dramatically rolling her eyes.

"But Dad, you promised!"

"I know but I don't trust any of those other hooligans out on the road. Like Jessica."

"Jessica doesn't have a license, Dad."

"And neither do you." He grabbed the keys out of her hand and headed outside, his temperamental daughter on his heels.

"But I have a permit!"

"Permit-shmermit, you don't know the road to the school as well as I do."

Lillianne tapped her foot, standing in front of the driver door. She crossed her arms, and gave her father "that look". That look which every Dad has to run into at least once in their long career of being a good and overprotective father. Grant could read it in her eyes now. The "I-Can't-Believe-You-You-Promised-Me-Now-You're-Backing-Out-Don't-You-Trust-Me-Dad" look. It was his only kryptonite. Well not his only one, but the biggest one. He groaned unnecessarily loud and handed over the keys to his daughter, who took them with a beaming smile.

"Just don't kill me today. I have to go to work, okay?" he said as he walked to the passenger side of the car, catching Lillianne's bag as she cheerfully tossed it into the seat next to her. She quickly adjusted the mirrors and fixed her hair in the rearview mirror before starting the car. Grant chuckled to himself. He had never seen Lillianne so excited for school before, but he knew that this final year of school was very important for her, so he instead let it slide and gripped the handle of his car as his daughter quickly backed out of their driveway and sped down the street towards her high school.

Lillianne quickly walked away from her father, who was sticking his head out the window as he drove away blowing her kisses. She couldn't believe it, sometimes it seemed like he was the only person on the world who didn't understand her reasoning sometimes. Like when she told him that Chex Mix didn't count as a full meal, so he instead headed straight for potato chips. 'Sometimes I wonder about that man…' she thought to herself, ascending the stairway into the school and slipping past the huge open doors that were flooded with students of all grades.

Immediately she puffed up her chest, strutting down the hallway confidently. This was going to be her last year in this hell-hole, her last year to finally own the school and live life to the fullest it can be. As an underclassmen she'd always dream about the glamorous life of an upperclassmen: the popularity, the varsity cheer positions, the boys, the friendships that would come and (unfortunately) end, and most of all: the dances. The title of Homecoming or Prom Queen, the pinnacle of Lillianne's existence. Ever since she was a mere freshman she's seen herself standing on the stage with that big crown, hanging on the arm of him…

"Lillianne!"

Lillianne quickly turned around to come face to face with her best friend. She squealed with excitement as they both ran (awkwardly, they both wore matching wedges) towards each other and embraced. Jessica Kelies was Lillianne's best friend since they met on the squad sophomore year. She was your typical pretty girl: bouncy blonde hair that was hair-sprayed into a perfect form, a low cut shirt modest enough for school, and jean shorts that flared out over her creamy thighs. Lillianne didn't doubt that her friend was gorgeous, and obviously neither could any of the boys at school. Jessica seemed to have admirers and some hot boy always drooling over her. And even though she enjoyed the attention, Jessica was a faithful friend and anybody who tried to wedge themselves in-between her and Lillianne was given the boot. Lillianne felt fortunate enough to have her as a close friend.

"I missed you _so_ much girl!" she chimed. Lillianne pulled back and chuckled a bit.

"Jess, I just saw you two days ago, remember?" Jessica gave a dramatic sigh, placing her wrist on her forehead.

"Yes but after I came back home, I had to do the homework for that stupid English class." They both giggled and started to make their way down the hall towards the auditorium.

"I heard it wasn't _that_ bad." Lillianne said, watching Jessica's face animate with fake pain.

"You know I hate reading."

"What did you have to read?"

"_The Robber Bridegroom_." They turned the corner, squeezing through the thick crowd of other students into the gym.

"Isn't that like Cinderella or something?"

"Kind of. I don't know, Lil', it was just giving me a headache. I missed the new episode of Jersey Shore for it. Jersey. _Shore_."

Lillianne made a fake gasp, her hand placed over her mouth. "And you love the episodes where Mike is a douche."

Jessica drew a fake tear coming out her eye. "The things I do for school. I'm just so glad this our last year here."

Lillianne nodded in agreement and they both sat down in their seats. Lillianne really couldn't believe it. It was her last year at this god-forsaken school. The last year of stupid teachers, being trapped in a building with other stupid kids, last year of bitches like-

"Hey, girls."

-Like Maya Rameriez.

A tanned mexican girl sat in front of them, flipping her shining dark brown hair to turn her head and give them a tiny smirk. Maya's tank top was cut in all the right places, a push-up bra helping her breasts become to center of attention to all the guys sitting near her. Maya was the cheer captain last year, making Lillianne and Jessica's (along with the rest of the squads) life a living hell. Their drills were non-stop, and her leadership skills just short of horrendous.

Jessica rolled her eyes and crossed her legs. "Hey, Maya." Jessica and Maya had it out for each other since Maya had taken away Jessica's boyfriend of two weeks. Between them, tiny things became blown-out of proportioned competitions. Lillianne, unfortunately, was dragged into the mess with Jessica. But Lillianne couldn't stand Maya's all around cockiness either. Maya strut around the school like she owned the place and like she was the queen at school.

"You little ladies ready for cheer season this year? I've been planning out routines for us to do." God, even her _voice_ just dripped with bitchiness. Lillianne just wanted to whip that smug grin off her face.

"Who says you'll be cheer captain this year?" Jessica challenged, an ace up her sleeve. Maya's plastic smiled twitched at the corner of her mouth.

"Oh, and _you_ think you can be a better cheer captain than I can?" A scoff played off her voice. Jessica returned the same smile back to her.

"A _rock_ could captain better than you. But no, I'm not trying out this year actually." Maya frowned, a fire burning in her eyes.

"And who is? You're little friend? Last time I remembered, she fell on her ass during one of our away games." Lillianne leaned forward, returning the passion of the fire in her own eyes.

"And last time I remembered, weren't you the one that dropped me?" Maya opened her mouth to retort until one of the teachers strolled by and threw an eye over to the three girls. They leaned back into their seats, Maya flipping her hair in their eyes as she turned. Jessica had half the mind to pull out her hair but the principle walked out on stage and cleared her throat, starting off the beginning of the year with her address to the school, to freshmen and seniors in particular.

Lillianne had a feeling the school year was going to be very interesting.

Jessica groaned as she looked at her locator card, strutting down the hall. Lillianne huffed just trying to keep up with her frustrated friend, spreading open the halls like the red sea. "Are you kidding me? I swear my consular just _wants_ me to fail algebra." She threw her hands up in frustration, almost hitting someone passing by in the hallway. "Mrs. Collins is an _imbecile_, an _idiot!_ She can't teach anybody if her damn life depended on it!"

"I'll help you, girl" Lillianne said, apologizing to the person Jessica almost collided with. "I have Mr. Rodriguez, he'll teach it to me and then I'll teach it to you." Jessica ignored her comment, and continued to rant on about the evil that was Mrs. Collins disorganization. Jessica, although a good friend, did get wrapped up in herself from time to time and tended to ignore Lillianne whenever she was on her "rants". Lillianne didn't seem to mind too much, she was used to it by now. Lillianne looked down at her paper and frowned disapprovingly. She had gotten six classes instead of five, so that meant she'd have to miss a good 15 minutes of cheer practice everyday. And Maya would never let her live if down, she'd use that fact to her advantage and become cheer captain again. Then she'd make her life a living hell for being late everyday. She subconsciously groaned and headed towards her locker.

"Well, my locker is 517, I gotta go decorate it. Make it sparkle." Jessica said, snapping Lillianne out of her inner thoughts. "See ya in Health!"

As Jessica trotted off, Lillianne gave a small wave and headed towards her locker. The other kids who were her neighbors had drifted away and she approached it. Staring down at her paper, she turned the locker combination to open it. 06-16-06. Simple enough to remember. As she opened the door to throw her books inside, something fluttered to the floor. Looking down, she saw an aged piece of paper, folded neatly in half. Her eyebrow raised a bit, looking at it. Who's was it? Maybe it belonged to the previous locker's owner. She quickly kneeled down and picked it up before anyone stepped on it, throwing her handbag into the locker so that she could have her full attention on it. Flipping it over to look at the other side, her blood ran cold.

Written in red ink, cursive writing wrote out "Lillianne Marsh".

She held the note for a solid minute, staring at it's design. Somebody left a note for her? In her _locker_? How did they know which locker she had? And who sent this letter? Questions buzzed around her head like a hive of bees, her heart beating painfully in her chest. She nervously laughed, pulling her hair back behind her ear with a nervous shake.

'This has to be a joke.' she thought, forcing a smile on her face. 'Jess just wrote me a stupid note for me over break or something. She worked on her cursive or something.' She gulped. 'She worked on it...a lot.'

The writing itself sent shivers down her spine. It was graceful, elegant, like it didn't belong in the time period of cellphones and electronic devices. It looked beautiful, and the fact that that handwriting wrote her name made Lillianne's stomach twist in a knot.

Slowly, she opened the note. And instead of Jessica's "BFF" note she was expecting, she saw something else. A poem. Written in the same red ink, with the same cursive writing.

_Through shadows I emerge_

_I want to crown you Queen_

_A silent guardian_

_Guiding you in your path_

_If you'll have me_

_O deny me the right to protect_

_I shall watch from corners and admire_

_O grant me your grace_

_I will mow the path to greatness_

_For I am but a humble Freak_

A heat crawled up her cheeks as she read the note. 'A love letter?' she thought, embarrassment making her legs shake slightly. Lillianne couldn't help but feel butterflies fill her stomach. 'Somebody wrote me...a love letter?' Her head felt dizzy and she pulled her hair back behind her ears chronically. Lillianne didn't even understand what the note was saying, all she understood was that somebody liked her enough to send her something in her locker. Quickly, she put the note neatly in her binder and arranged her books into her locker. Slamming it shut, she held her bad close to her and hurried down the hall to her first period class. Her face was still red from the note as she narrowly slipped her way into class after the bell rang. Sitting down, theories ran through her head as to who sent the note. What they looked like. What they did in his spare time. If she knew them.

Those butterflies quickly died when she remembered that nobody else knew which locker was hers.

Her classes went by painfully slow, and she didn't have time to talk to Jessica about the mysterious note because the teacher had placed them at separate ends of the room and started the lesson right away, and during lunch she was stuck in the consular's office trying to switch out of her math class, leaving Lillianne alone. She had met a few friends here and there in her classes, but for now she just waited outside the school for her father. A slight breeze passed by her, making her shiver and raise her arms across her chest. Lillianne puffed her chest in annoyance. Today hadn't gone quite as grand as she thought it would be. The new classes didn't seem like they would be any fun at all, Jessica's constant bitching over how much 'the school was trying to screw her over' during passing periods had brought her down a bit, and although flattering, the love poem she got in her locker continued to send chills down her spine. It's message was almost too confusing for Lillianne to understand what the sender was even asking for. Was he asking for permission? For what? To say hi? To date her?

Rubbing her temples, she groaned. Everything didn't really work out the way she wanted them to. Her dad was late and here she was, outside the school like a loner, trying to analyze was a stupid piece of paper was saying inside her locker.

…A stupid piece of paper with nice handwriting.

'Oh stop it.' she hissed inside of her head, trying to force the blush off of her cheeks. Lillianne rummaged through her bag, searching desperately for the paper. She would just throw it out. All if gave her was a headache, anyway. And if this person was too shy to ask her out to her face and not give her this creepy poem then he obviously wasn't worth her time anyway. Just as she pulled it out, the wind took it and flew into to breeze. 'Great.' Lillianne thought to herself and chased after it on the sidewalk. As she leaded down and reached down to pick it up, she turned to throw the accursed piece of paper away until-

She came eye to eye to him.

Matthew Reid. Last year's line backer and for sure this year's quarterback. Lillianne almost forgot how to breathe she was so astonished by how close he was to her. She had secretly crushed on him from afar since sophomore year, when she _knew_ he winked at her when he ran across the field for warm-ups. His cool blue eyes contrasted against his warm tanned skin, his chin perfectly square and clean shaven. Looking at his dirty blonde hair, Lillianne had a sudden urge to run her fingers through it but she instead gripped the poem in her hand to keep herself from doing it. He smiled at her, his perfect white smile. Lillianne thought for sure that she was going to melt right then and there, and he hadn't even said anything to her.

"Hi. Lillianne, right?"

His voice was like honey. And he said her name. _Her_ name. She felt her face flush but calmly breathed down and looked up at him. 'C'mon, brain don't fail me now! Think! You prepared for this _don't you fucking dare back out now.'_

She flashed him her prettiest smile and hid the note in her bag. "Y-Yeah. Lillianne. And you're Matt, right?" He chuckled and nodded at her.

"Yeah. I don't know if you remember me? I'm on the football team." She smiled and widened her eyes, playfully.

"Oh yeah! I thought you looked familiar." 'I've only been to every one of your games and been crushing on you for almost 2 years. Of corse I know you play football.' she thought to herself, but bit her lip in order to keep it to herself. He shifted to his other foot, his hands shoved into his pockets.

"Yeah. I've seen you around, too. You're on cheer, huh? Jess is your friend."

Lillianne playfully rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, Jessica. She's crazy."

He laughed a bit. "Yeah. She is." His eyes fluttered down a bit, then back up to her. Shy almost. The butterflies in her stomach started to flutter alive again. "…You waiting for someone?"

"O-Oh yeah! My dad. He's always late picking me up."

"Oh that sucks."

"A little." she shrugged. Another one of the chilly breezes past through. Lillianne kept her hands down on her skirt so it wouldn't flutter up and she couldn't help but see Matt's eyes on her. Watching her. Oh god. Was he _checking her out?_

"You cold?" he asked. Lillianne shyly nodded. Excitement rushed through her. 'Oh my god. Is he gonna give me his jacket? Please oh please give me your jacket. Please-'

Her thoughts were interrupted by the quick honking of that familiar car. Lillianne turned her head and saw her Dad, waving at her and opening the passenger door for her. Silently cursing him, she turned back to Matt. "I gotta go." she whispered, smiling softly. Matt nodded, pulling his backpack closer on his shoulders.

"Talk to you later, 'kay?" he said, smiling that dashingly handsome smile again.

'Oh my _God_ I am going to kill Dad for this.' Lillianne waved and walked towards the car. "Yeah. Later!"

Sliding into the car she waited until they were far enough away from the school and gave her father a quick punch in the arm. Grant laughed, holding it with one hand. "'Ey! Little miss flirty-pants, don't you get mad at me!"

Lillianne's face turned red again. "I was _not_ flirting Dad!" He smirked and raised an eyebrow to her. "Oh my God, Dad. Just drive, Shut _up_!" He lifted his hands up as a sign of surrender, his smirk still plastered on his face still.

Lillianne rushed out of the car the minute he pulled into the driveway, running to her bedroom and quickly falling on top of the mattress. Joy and euphoria rushed through her as she replayed that short conversation in her head over and over again. Alright, she guessed that the day wasn't _that_ bad. Matthew Reid, her secret crush, had talked to her. And he wanted to _talk to her later_. And okay Jessica was ranting all day? She still had fun during lunch with her other friends she hadn't seen all break. And maybe Maya was a bitch. When she was cheer captain she'd make her run three miles a day. And the teachers weren't that bad. And Matthew Reid was cute. And he talked to her. And he was so cute. His drop-dead-gorgeous smile almost made her forget about the creepy note in her locker.

Almost.

She turned onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. Putting her hand in her bag, she pulled out the slightly crumpled note and held it close to her chest. She'd throw it out later. Sighing, she quickly glanced over the beautiful handwriting again. The poem confused her beyond all belief, maybe Jessica would know what to do with the note. She re-read the last line about five times.

_For_ _I am but a humble Freak_

It almost seemed out of place. Like the whole poem suddenly stopped because of this one line placed as a road-block at the end. Putting it away before she got a headache, Lillianne mused about her mysterious note as she pulled off her wedges and stretched her toes.

'What is this all leading to?' she wondered


End file.
